


to love and to care for

by Lewdsuke



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Lingerie, M/M, Mentioned Grogu | Baby Yoda, No helmet, Pet Names, Rimming, Soft Din Djarin, Sub Din Djarin, Vulnerability, i just wanted soft din in lingerie, im not good at smut, post Chapter 16, so i made it angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsuke/pseuds/Lewdsuke
Summary: When Cobb Vanth returns home that evening, he finds a handsome stranger dolled up and sitting nervously on his bed
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 18
Kudos: 142





	to love and to care for

“You’ve got a visitor waitng for you at your place,” says the Weequay as Cobb saunters back into the cantina after having worked on a moisture vaporator all day.

He downs the shot of spotchka before giving the bartender a questioning look, “A visitor? Who?”

The Weequay shrugs, but shoots him a knowing smirk, “You better go check.”

Cobb groans, picking himself up from the barstool without another word. If there really is a visitor waiting in his home, he better not keep them waiting. No telling what they might do. Still, the closer he gets to the house, the more wary he feels. Who in the galaxy would give him a surprise visit in his home and tell the Weequay to keep it a secret? As the door slides open, Cobb’s hand slips to the blaster strapped to his thigh with a loose grip. There’s no one in the main room. Slowly, quietly, the marshal creeps inside, his eyes everywhere as searches for his visitor. Or intruder.

There’s no one in the kitchen either, so Cobb scowls and turns to the hallway leading to his bedroom, wondering what kind of person was bold enough to enter his home and walk into his bedroom without permission. Turning down the hallway, he sees the door to his room is closed, just as he left it. With a tightening grip on his blaster, Cobb opens the door and freezes.

On his bed is a man. A gorgeous man with golden skin, curly brown hair, and shy brown eyes. He sits patiently on the bed, but jumps when the door slides open, his head jerking to look at Cobb, which is when the marshal sees the neat mustache that suited the man so well. But seeing a stranger in his bed is far from the most shocking thing about this situation. No, the thing that has Cobb gawking is the light pink lingerie that hugs the man perfectly, complete with a lacy bra and stockings held up with garter belts, leading to sheer lace panties that only darkened enough to conceal the man’s crotch.

Cobb must’ve been staring for a solid minute, because the man suddenly clears his throat and snaps him out of his trance, “It looks like our paths crossed again.”

Cobb laughs, smirking as he takes in the sight before him, not even trying to hide the way his eyes trace every inch of the man, “Yeah? I can’t say I remember them crossin’ in the first place,” he replies, keeping his hand hovering over his blaster just in case.

“You don’t recognize me?” Cobb could swear the man sounds just a bit hurt, but he’s too puzzled to think anything of it.

“‘fraid not.”

The man looks at his lap for a moment, then stands up and faces the marshal, revealing his toned stomach, broad shoulders, and muscular thighs. Cobb licks his lips, “I’ll give you a hint,” the man suddenly takes a defensive stance, his back straight as he glares at him, “Take it off. Or I will.”

Cobb’s eyes stop drifting, now fixating on the man’s face as he chokes out a laugh, “ _Mando?”_

Din allows himself a small smile and nods, “Good to see you again, marshal.”

With a scoff, Cobb releases his blaster and bounces forward to grab Din’s shoulders, “This’s a joke, right? You can't be _the_ Mando? I mean, your helmet, I thought—”

“I broke my Creed,” Din deadpans, a pitiful smile on his face, “I wish I could say I still had the right to wear it, but…” he trails off, glancing to the side where his armor is neatly piled on the floor beside the dresser, “I did what I had to.”

Cobb gnaws on lip as he registers the faint look of hopelessness in the Mandalorian’s eyes. He’s seen it a thousand times before — there wasn’t much hope in the life of a slave, after all. “What happened?” he ventures, hoping he wasn’t pushing too far. He had a feeling he knew what it was, but he wanted to hear it either way.

“The child. Grogu. I had to, to protect him,” Din sighs and shakes his head, as if dismissing a stray thought, “He was taken by Moff Gideon. I had to save him, so—”

“I understand,” Cobb interjects, one hand reaching up to cup the back of the man’s neck, tugging lightly at the curls, “Grogu’s his name, huh? I like it.”

“Din,” he suddenly breathes out, almost in a moan.

“Din?”

He nods, his fingers digging into the thick fabric of Cobb’s shirt, “My name— My name’s Din.”

Cobb nods, smirks as the hand on his neck moves up to thread through Din’s soft hair, “ _Din._ You mind tellin’ me how you found yourself back in Mos Pelgo dressed up so pretty?”

Though flustered, and enjoying the affection far too much, Din explains. He explains what happened to Grogu, to the Razor Crest, and how the child was currently in the care of someone else. It takes a lot of explaining, and admittedly, Cobb still doesn’t understand all of it, but he can tell that Din doesn’t want to talk about it any more than he has. He can see the way Din’s pretty brown eyes look glassy when he talks about giving the child away, “I wanted to see you,” Din finishes, hands grabbing at Cobb’s hips.

“That doesn’t quite explain the lingerie,” Cobb grins, one hand tracing the delicate lace of Din’s bra strap. The man shudders and ducks his head, unable to hide while they’re so close, “You’re mighty bold to come in here wearing this and then get embarrassed about it.”

Din gives him a glare to mask his amusement, “I… haven’t worn anything but my armor in, well, it’s been a really long time.”

Cobb’s chest tightens at the revelation and the implications of it. Sure, he could admit that he’d shared a few moments with Din where they’d sit too close, or stare at each other for too long, but for Din to trust him with this? Unprotected by the honor and strength of his Mandalorian armor, Din allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of Cobb, to give himself to him. Kriff, how his heart ached for the man. Even in his determination, Din still held fear as his hands only brushed Cobb’s hips. How he could barely hold eye contact more than a few seconds.

Then Cobb leans in and kisses Din, stroking his hair gently as the man gasps, gradually easing into the kiss, chasing him as Cobb pulls away. The marshal sighs and smiles that wide, toothy smile that makes Din melt, “Who would’ve thought you were hiding such a handsome face?” Din laughs and shakes his head as if Cobb is making a joke.

“How’d you know I’d be into the lingerie?”

Din gulps, glancing at the wall, “Lucky guess.”

“That ain’t really it, is it? You’d be makin’ a pretty daring guess, and I don’t strike you as the kinda guy to do something carelessly.”

Din eyes him nervously, fingers digging into the fabric at Cobb’s waist.

“You _wanted_ to wear this, right? Knew how pretty you looked and wanted to show it off along with that handsome face o’ yours.”

“Shut up,” Din grumbles, but he’s tucking his head into Cobb’s neck, so he’s pretty sure he’s saying something right.

“Must’ve been wearing it under your armor, huh? How’d it feel, waltzing into town, secretly dolled up for the marshal?” Cobb whispers into Din’s ear, the man shivering in his arms.

He’s about to tease him again when soft lips dance across his skin, a desperate voice barely audible against his neck, “I wanted you to see me.”

Cobb can feel himself flush as he cups either side of Din’s face and whispers, “I can see you, Din, and you look lovely.”

Din grabs at Cobb’s wrists, letting out a sweet sigh as he stares into the Marshal’s eyes. His lips twitch, like he wants to say something, but his body is holding him back.

“Use your words, darling.”

With a shudder, Din speaks, “Keep talking, please. I like it when you call me that.”

Smirking, Cobb lets go of Din’s face to grab at his arms and pull them around his neck, then he wraps his own arms around Din’s waist, “I’m the one who wants to hear you talk,” he whispers into his ear, “Just hearing your voice without that helmet in the way… the things it does to me. But that’s not what you want, is it darling? You want me to tell you how lovely you look in your panties, right? How I’d love to hold you down and fuck the sense out of you? Is that what you want, Din?”

“Yes,” Din shivers, sighing into the crook of Cobb’s neck, “Please.”

Cobb’s hands trail down further, slipping beneath the lace and kneading into his ass, “Of course you do. Wearing that heavy armor all day, doin’ all that fighting. You just need to be taken care of, rewarded like the good boy you are. I bet you’d look so pretty wrapped around my cock, wouldn’t you?” Din gasps, rocking in Cobb’s grip, “I asked you a question, sweetheart. Wouldn’t you look pretty?”

This time, Din whines against his skin, “Yes, I would,” he whimpers, now grinding against him. Cobb has to admit that he’s gotten a little carried away in his own fantasy, but here, with Din wrapped up like a gift, he can’t help it. He shifts back and pulls Din to his bed. He sits on the edge, then pats his lap for the Mandalorian to sit, too. And he does, with shy reluctance. He straddles Cobb’s lap with legs spread wide, his arms still looped around the man’s neck. From this position, he can feel the marshal’s erection pushing against his own, straining in his pants.

“Pink suits you, Mando,” Cobb chuckles, one finger pressing against the tip of Din’s cock, where the fabric slowly becomes damp with his precome. It’s cute, Cobb thinks, as he starts stroking his cock through the panties, while Din moans sweetly in his ear, arms tightening around his neck. Too tight, once Cobb starts moving faster. He reaches up and taps Din’s arm, “Ease up,” he says amusedly. Din loosens up and leans back, letting out a deep breath and flushing as he does so. It’s _so_ cute.

With his other hand, he reaches up to trace Din’s jawline before resting his fingers beneath his chin and tilting his head up. He looks dazed as Cobb tilts his head back and forth, and his fingers tremble on Cobb’s shoulders as the marshal kisses up his bicep, to the top of his shoulder, and then down to his collarbone. The chance is too great, and Din’s moans are so wonderful, so if he leaves a few marks along the way, who’s to blame him?

“Can you lie down for me, darling?”

Din nods, shakily rising from Cobb's lap and crawling further onto the bed. He lays on his side, head propped up in one hand as he watches Cobb stand up and slowly pull off his shirt, revealing a toned chest, littered with as many scars as Din has. Catching his wandering eyes, Cobb smirks and laughs breathily as he opens the front of his pants. His hands linger there for a moment, but in a moment of clarity, he crouches at the bed in front of Din and kisses him on the forehead, “Is this really what you want?”

Din swallows, tensing up as he considers the question. Cobb can’t quite tell what he’s thinking, but the brunette soon smiles and reaches out to run a reassuring hand through the marshal’s silver hair, “Yeah, it is,” he says quietly. Cobb wishes he could say it was said in confidence, but something in the way his eyes flicker tells him otherwise.

He can adjust.

Standing up again, he pulls off his pants and tosses them back, wasting no time to do the same with his boxers. Din’s gaze immediately darts away, to Cobb’s feet, then to the thin bed sheets. He thumbs at the strap of his bra nervously, waiting patiently.

Cobb climbs back on to the bed, gently pushing Din onto his back and hovering over him, hands on either side of his head, “I’m gonna take good care of you. I’ll have you making a mess of your panties and screaming my name. You want that?”

“Please,” Din mumbled, already antsy beneath Cobb. 

With that answer, Cobb shifts down and pulls down one side of Din’s bra, wrapping his lips around his nipple and sucking. Din gasps, arching his back into the sudden sensation, biting his lip as Cobb thumbs at his other nipple through the fabric. By his obscene gasps and thrust of his hips, Cobb realizes that Din is either very sensitive or hasn’t been touched like this in a long time. Something tells him both. 

When he moves down with a trail of kisses on his stomach, Din twitches and whines, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He reaches his hand out, and Cobb’s heart does flips as he threads their fingers together, seeing the way Din looks at him like he’s the loveliest man in the galaxy. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good now,” Cobb grins, as if Din hadn’t already been rendered a moaning mess beneath his touch. No, he would stay true to his word. He wouldn’t stop until Din was incoherent, the marshal’s name the only thought in his head.

Reluctantly, he lets go of Din’s hand and shifts farther back until he’s face to crotch with the man. He can tell Din is nervous, his knees rocking awkwardly in the air as he watches Cobb bury himself between his thighs. He kisses up down his inner thigh on one side, ghosting his finger up and down the other, “Can you spread your legs for me?” he asks, his lips pressed into the junction of Din’s thigh and crotch, beard rough as it pokes through the thin fabric of his panties.

Without any hesitation, Din opens his legs as far as he can, which isn’t very far, but Cobb finds his effort endearing, “Good boy,” he whispers in a low voice, noting the way Din’s erection twitches.

At last, he crouches down onto his chest, one arm wrapped securely around Din’s thigh while his other hand pulls at the fabric of his panties, enough to see his tight hole. Cobb feels dizzy surrounded by the heat of Din’s body, imagining the man preparing himself for Cobb, his warm breath against his hole enough to make the brunette whine and wiggle on the bed. Cobb takes the hint, his tongue flat against his skin as he licks a stripe over his hole, causing Din to yelp. He circles his tongue around the rim, marveling at the way it twitches and makes Din gasp.

“Hurry up,” Din growls, and Cobb feels a light tug at his hair. He doesn’t leave the man waiting, pushing his tongue past the tight entrance as he uses both hands to pull his cheeks further apart. Din squirms and squeezes his thighs together in surprise. Cobb quickly pulls back and for his legs apart again, a wide grin on his face. If he didn’t have to breathe, he’d love to bury his face between those thighs again, but Din’s pleasure comes first. He loves Din’s reactions, the way he tenses up and gasps with every touch, kriff, Cobb wishes he could just pound him right now.

He moves back down and begins his process, kissing Din’s soft skin and teasing his entrance, pushing his tongue in just barely before pulling it out. Din is whining, his thighs quivering, and when Cobb dives in, his thighs clamp down over his head. With a chuckle, the marshal pulls back again, “This ain’t gonna work if you’re intent on suffocatin’ me.”

“Sorry, I can’t, uh,” Din pants, lifting his head to look at Cobb with lidded eyes.

Cobb shakes his head and hushes him, “No need for that. C’mere, move this way,” he scoots off the bed and gestures for Din to sit in front of him. He does so, and Cobb can’t hold back his moan as he looks up at Din’s muscular body, the way his chest rises and falls, his eyes embarrassed, but fixed on the man between his legs, “Gorgeous,” Cobb mutters, kissing his navel, “Lie back for me.”

Din practically flops onto his back, his legs spreading without any direction. Cobb’s hand ghost from his calves to his thighs, hefting them over his shoulders with a quiet grunt. At least from this angle, Din can only squeeze him a bit. He settles into a comfortable position before wrapping his arms around his thighs, one hand pulling his panties out the way and the other in a loose grip over his clothed erection. Din jerks as Cobb moves in again, getting him wet and pushing his tongue in as far as he can while he rubs him slowly through the soft fabric. He thrusts his hips when Cobb’s tongue starts lapping at his insides, a low moan sounding from him as the marshal pushes his hips down with his forearm. Instead, his hips rock slowly with each stroke, the muscles of his thighs fluttering with each thrust of Cobb’s tongue.

When Cobb pulls away for air, his lips still ghosting Din’s slick hole, he speaks in a rough voice, “Play with your tits.” Din obeys. He doesn’t even think about it as he reaches to his chest, pinching and rubbing his nipples through soft lace. Cobb curses against his skin, hand tightening around Din’s cock.

“Gedet’ye, Vanth, _kriff!”_ Din groans, his back arching and his hips shaking. His thighs tighten around Cobb for a moment, but relax quickly. The marshal isn’t sure what he heard, but he pushes in further, his beard tickling against Din’s skin as he sucks his hole.

The Mandalorian gasps so prettily, delicious moans tumbling from his mouth as he squirms on the bed, spread open by the marshal’s tongue and the wet fingertip poking at his entrance. Cobb can tell he’s close, his reactions getting louder as he’s overwhelmed now by the friction of Cobb’s hands rubbing his leaking cock and his own fingers twirling over his chest. 

When Cobb’s finger pushes in further, stretching him and exploring him, Din screams when it finally finds that place inside him, “Fuck, there! Cobb, ika, cyar’ika.” Cobb isn’t sure if it’s nonsense or something else, but it only spurs him on as he abuses the brunette, pressing down on that sensitive spot as Din writhes on the bed. It wasn’t long before he was gasping again, his whole body tightening as he comes, “Cobb!” he sobbed, “Cobb, jate, _jate.”_

Cobb doesn’t stop until Din has relaxed, spent and breathing heavily. He pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawls on the bed to give the brunette a wet kiss on the cheek. Din doesn’t move, but he sends an affectionate glare his way as he murmurs a complaint beneath his breath. Cobb laughs, then begins to clean up, seeing as Din looks on the verge of passing out. He barely moves, even as the marshal unclips his garters and slides his stockings off and carefully removes the panties sticking to his skin. He doesn’t even make a sound as Cobb lifts him up just enough to pull off his bra. While Cobb is sure to miss it, he figures it’s much more comfortable to sleep without. By the time he’d gotten a cloth to clean him up, Din is already snoozing, his legs still hanging off the side of the bed.

After a somewhat embarrassing amount of effort, Cobb manages to tuck Din beneath the covers before going to take care of his own problem. Finishing himself off doesn’t take long; seeing Din dolled up and moaning until his voice had gone hoarse had him painfully hard and leaking. Honestly, he might’ve come from just watching, if Din had lasted any longer. 

He tiptoes back into the room and pulls on his boxers, smiling fondly at the man curled up in his bed. After allowing himself to admire the beautiful calm of Din sleeping soundly, relaxed and blissed out, Cobb slides in beside him, tucking his nose into those soft curls and draping an arm over his side.

\---

Din wakes up in an empty bed, the door open, and a sweet smell drifting in from somewhere outside the room. It takes him a long moment to register where he is, and why he’s here, but once he remembers, he relaxes and pulls himself out of bed. He hovers over his neatly folded clothes and armor for an even longer moment until he finally decides to simply wear his flight suit and boots and put on his armor later. After more deliberation, he finds that he looks awkward without his armor, and settles on wearing it on his lower half, at least.

When he finally trudges out of the room and into the kitchen, he sees Cobb standing there in only his boxers. One hand is unceremoniously tucked inside the back of them while his other hand is occupied with cooking. When he turns to smile at him, Din’s heart beats faster as he wonders how a person in that position can still be so terribly charming.

Din walks forward, but freezes when Cobb speaks, “Good morning, mesh’la.”

“What did you say?”

“Damn, did I say it wrong?”

Din laughs, and moves again, “If it’s what I think you’re saying, then no, you didn’t say it wrong. I just didn’t expect it.”

When Cobb turns around again, he has two plates of something round and fluffy, which he sets on the table, “Oh, I meant it. You are very… _mesh’la.”_

Din laughs again, “Stop, you make it sound embarrassing.”

“I thought you liked the pet names,” Cobb jokes, wrapping an arm around Din’s waist and guiding him to the table, “I figured out what language it was after doing some research this morning. So I learned a new word myself. Impressed?”

Din rolls his eyes, although he feels more honored than impressed that Cobb would care enough to learn, “What is this?” he inquires, changing the subject to their breakfast.

“Bantha butter pancakes. It’s quite the delicacy here in Mos Pelgo, but I thought that a sweet mouth like yours would enjoy a sweet food like this.”

“ _Vanth_ ,” Din growls, but he’s sure the tug at his lips gives him away; he won’t admit that he does in fact have a sweet tooth, “Well, thank you.”

Cobb gives him an appreciative nod before taking a bite, prompting Din to do the same. The silence is comfortable, but when Din feels the marshal’s eyes on him, the air becomes heavy, and he has trouble swallowing down his food.

“Din,” he starts, having abandoned his breakfast, “What really happened?”

“What do you mean?” Din asks, still taking small bites of the pancake.

“I don’t want to have just been a distraction for you. Tell me what happened to your kid, why you suddenly show up in my home and try to give yourself to a man you hardly knew.”

Din feels those wretched claws climbing up his throat, his blood pumping loud in his ears, “I’m sorry I-I fell asleep before I could make you feel good last night,” Cobb shakes his head.

“You can let me in, if you want to.”

He can’t swallow the lump in his throat, but he tries anyway, “Grogu. He’s with a Jedi.”

Cobb stares at him, “You’re lyin’ to me. A _Jedi?”_

Din smiles slightly, finding himself amused by the incredulous look on the marshal’s face, “It’s true.” As much as he misses Grogu, with his soft cooing and passion for food, he feels a sense of pride as he recalls how powerful the child was, even in his innocence.

Grogu will become so much more now, with a proper teacher.

Din doesn’t even notice when Cobb gets up to sit beside him, but he must’ve looked pitiful, based on the way the man is petting his side and looking him in the eye. He _feels_ pitiful, now that he isn’t preoccupied with guarding a child from the Empire. With taking care of the child. He feels… empty.

He knows, deep down, that he came to Cobb in a moment of desperation. His child was gone, and in his hands was the darksaber, a weapon filled with more responsibility and power than Din thought he deserved. The truth was that he didn’t care about any of that. Even with the key to uniting Mandalore at his disposal, he still felt aimless. That’s why he ran. That’s why he left the others without a word.

Din needed to give himself to someone again, to feel loved and to feel wanted. He needed to give up control and indulge himself, pretend that the darksaber didn’t exist, that the Mandalorians never found him, that Bo-Katan wasn’t probably searching for him, that Grogu… would still remember him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, head falling to Cobb’s shoulder as he holds back what he knows would be a waterfall of emotions, many of which he shouldn’t be forcing onto this man, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know where else to go.” He had come here wanting to take care of Cobb, but he ended up only caring for himself. He couldn’t help it, it’s been so long, and he felt so alone.

“I don’t mind,” Cobb hugs him tight, resting his chin atop Din’s head, “I know what it’s like feeling like you have nowhere to go, like there’s no one to turn to. But I’m happy you thought of me. Last night, I meant that, Din. Won’t you let me take care of you?”

Din isn’t sure how long he has. He isn’t sure when he’ll be found and forced to deal with the consequences of his actions. And he definitely isn’t sure what he did to deserve such generosity.

But here, in the arms of someone who cares, he decides that he’ll take the time to figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck i hate writing smut i have no concept of sexual tension, i just couldn't get soft Din in lingerie out of my head
> 
> anyway thank you for reading!! kudos and comments appreciated :))
> 
> \---
> 
> gedet'ye - please  
> cyar'ika - beloved  
> jate - good  
> mesh'la - beautiful


End file.
